


In Too Deep

by BremenBunny



Series: Steve Rogers is a lot of things, least of which a national icon [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hitman (2007), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BremenBunny/pseuds/BremenBunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers, rookie assassin, was sent on a mission to dispatch a target during Tony Stark's charity gala.  Who did he have to kill?  The answer isn't as simple as you'd think...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Codename: Captain

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched Hitman (based on the video game by Eidos) and was thoroughly impressed, even at the lack of plot. This was my second OTP (second only to Spideypool) and I think I like it simply because CHRIS EVANS. Also RDJ is great and whatnot. I understand how absurd this plot is. Steve Rogers, assassin? Trust me, I took that into account.
> 
> If you're a fan of the Hitman series like me, you'll notice a pattern in the chapter names.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! [anconeus.tumblr.com](http://anconeus.tumblr.com)

_Breathe slowly.  Don’t make a noise.  Keep your aim steady._

Steve Rogers brought up the scope of his gun, aiming down to the extravagant gala that ensued in the Stark Tower.  He singled out his target from amongst the crowd, the cross of his scope locking onto the man.  He held his breath, slowly pulling the trigger…

Out of nowhere, he heard a quick snap.  It was the sound of someone bringing his hand down on Steve’s neck, knocking him out but leaving him unscathed.

He awoke with a start, realizing he wasn’t on the rooftop anymore.  The room he was in was dimly lit with a few industrial lights flickering on the ceiling.  When he tried to get up, he couldn’t.  He was tied down to the chair and was unable to move.

“Well, what do we have here?”  In the corner of Steve’s eye, he saw a silhouetted man saunter into better lighting.  It was none other than Tony Stark himself.

“Another assassin?  They would know better than to send one after what happened last time…”  He trailed off and brought his foot to Steve’s chest. 

“So, who sent you?”

“I don’t think I’m at liberty to tell you that,”

“Feisty.  I like that,” Tony chuckled, pressing his foot down a bit harder.

“Where am I?” Steve glanced around for any indication of where he might be, but there were no windows and the lighting wasn’t sufficient enough to reveal what was in the room.

“Slow down there, cowboy.  I’ll be the one asking the questions,”  Tony took his foot off of Steve’s chest and brought up a plush chair to sit opposite from the assassin.

“Name?”

No answer.

“I’m taking personal liberty here and just calling you ‘Blondie’.”  Steve scowled at the nickname and hung his head as a sign he wasn’t going to answer any questions.

After a while of silence, Tony sighed and leaned closer to Steve.  “Look.  I’ll give you an answer and then you can give me one.”  Steve slowly brought himself to look at his captor and nodded, albeit reluctantly. 

“You’re here in Stark tower.  One of my… colleagues found you aiming a sniper rifle down at the gala.”

Steve silently cursed himself for being off guard.  He hadn’t been informed of anyone skilled enough to apprehend him, especially at the distance he was at from the tower. 

“Your turn, Blondie.”

“Don’t…  don’t call me that.”

“Alright.  So what’s your name?”

Steve was silent for a few moments before whispering, “Steve.”

“Steve, huh?  What a normal name for an assassin.  I was expecting you to have some code name or something – unless that isn’t your real name,” Tony smirked, locking his eyes with Steve’s.  “Is it?”

Steve was tempted to look away when he felt a blush creep up his cheeks, but didn’t want to show any weakness to the billionaire.

“Did you know that you have the bluest eyes I have ever seen?”  Tony suddenly exclaimed, catching Steve off guard.  He blushed an even deeper shade of red. 

“You even flirt with dangerous assassins?”  Steve scoffed, turning away with embarrassment.  “Hey, you know what they say about me.  I’ll flirt with any living thing.”

After another few minutes of awkward silence, Tony ran his hand through his hair and directed more questions at Steve.

“Why did you want to kill me?”  Tony crossed his arms when he didn’t get a response.  Somehow this question elicited an unusual reaction from the assassin, who was now furrowing his brow and shifting his eyes nervously.

After a few more hours of pointless questioning, Tony got up and began to untie Steve.  “What – what are you doing?”  Steve sputtered, extremely confused. 

“What does it look like?  I’m setting you free, at least in principle.  I’m putting you under house arrest, meaning you can’t leave this floor of my house.”  With that, he left a very confused and angry Steve Rogers with his AI, Jarvis.

“Hello, sir.”

Steve jumped.  “Who the hell is there?”  He whipped his head around so fast he thought he gave himself whiplash. 

“My name is Jarvis.  I am Stark tower’s personal butler who controls and monitors every inch of this house.  In light of recent events, I have restricted your access of the tower to only the bedroom in which master has given you.”

“By master you mean Stark, right?”

“You’re not a very competent assassin, are you?  Yes, he is my master, and he was feeling much more generous today than he has been to previous attackers.”  Jarvis retorted in his snarky British accent. 

Feeling too worn out to ask any more questions, Steve gave up and retired to his room.  It was lavish, much more luxurious than the apartments he had to rent every few days.  He was even given a fresh change of clothes, but opted not to change. 

He was almost asleep when he remembered that he had to report in to his employer once he had done the job.  He took out his phone which immediately dialed headquarters.

“Fury?”

“About damn time, Captain,”  Nick Fury, the overseer of the group of assassins he called the Avengers, had given Steve the codename Captain because of his leadership qualities.

“Reporting in, Sir.  Mission failed,”  Steve winced, bracing himself for the barrage of curse words Fury was going to pummel him with.

“Failed?  Listen here, you mother fucker, but there are only two mission states:  success or death.”

“I am well aware of that, sir.  There have been…  extenuating circumstances which have led to me being held captive.  I am now in Stark tower.”

“What?  I thought I gave you very clear instructions not to get caught.”

“There was someone on the rooftop, sir.  We hadn’t expected another merc with ties to Stark,”

There was silence.  “Don’t expect me to haul your ass out of there, Captain.  You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out.  Fury offline.”

 

The line was cut and Steve was left listening to the busy tone that droned from the speakers.  Flopping down on to the bed, he fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

 

“Jarvis, how has our prisoner been doing?”

“Just fine, sir.  I have intercepted a recent call of his to a masked number.”

“Good.  Play it back.”

After listening to the conversation, Tony had a light grasp of the situation.  Nick Fury was out to get him. 

None of his other questions were answered, though.  Why did they want him dead?  Did they even want him dead?  And how come there were no files on the “captain”?

* * *

Steve awoke in the unholy hours of the morning, squinting at the harsh light that stole through the curtains.  For a moment he believed that he was back at headquarters.  And then he remembered that he was nowhere near liberated.  Many things went through Steve's head, such as jumping through the window or simply offing himself.  But no, Fury had told him to stay alive.  That and not get captured, and Steve decided that he would leave the idea, having already wasted one of Fury's good graces.

Looking at the bedside clock, he groaned.  5:00 AM on the dot.  At this time he would have been in the debreifing room across from Fury, falling asleep from the sheer dullness of the meeting. 

Suddenly, Jarvis came online.

"Steve Rogers, are you awake?"

"Yeah."  He still wasn't used to the disembodied voice and shivered as he responded. 

"Master Stark has summoned you to the kitchen.  You are not allowed access to any other sector of the penthouse.  All possible methods of escape are in lockdown.  A microchip has been attatched to your neck which has been designated to shock you at the slightest of suspicious movements."  When Steve reached back to his neck, Jarvis promptly deterred him from his action.

"The chip is not imbedded in your skin, but it is attatched well enough to be impervious to jostling.  It will come off once Master Stark deems it proper."

Sighing, Steve dropped his hand.  Damn Stark and his ingenuity. 

Begrudgingly, he tore off the covers (which were entirely too comfortable) and went to the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. 

He looked like hell.  His face and neck were covered in bruises, hair mussed beyond recognition.  His sleek jumpsuit was torn slightly in several places, compelling Steve to give in and wear the clothes he was given.  

After he slipped on the white t-shirt and stone-washed jeans (both of which were a bit too tight) he warily got out of his room and let Jarvis direct him to the kitchen.  There, Stark was waiting for him, holding a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.  The billionaire barely spared him a look before putting down the paper and taking off his reading glasses. 

"Hey, Cap," Stark said with a bit of an edge. 

"...Why would you call me..."  Steve feigned innocence and prayed to god that his phone wasn't tapped.

"I tapped your phone."  God dammit.

One of the maids pushed Steve forcefully into one of the chairs opposite Stark and gave him a plate of steaming food.

After Steve had taken a small, cautious bite, he directed his attention to the seemingly detatched billionaire.

"Aren't you worried I'll kill you?"  Steve ventured, pushing his food around anxiously.

"Sure.  I'm worried about people killing me all the time."

"Then why would you close off all of the escape routes?"

"I'm pretty sure that if you were experienced enough to kill me, you would have been able to already.  Why didn't they send Romanov?  Or even Coulson, for gods sake?"

Steve scowled.  "How do you know about that?  Let me rephrase that.  What don't you know about me?"

"Your sizes, apparently.  Not that I'm complaining about the view,"  Stark retorted smoothly, sending a heated blush all over Steve's face.  "I do my research, Cap.  Now tell me.  Why did they send you?"

Steve was silent for a long while before saying, finally, "I don't know."

"They sent you after the richest person in New York and you say you don't know?"  Tony rubbed at his temples and shook his head.  "There's something going on here.  Again, not complaining, you're pretty soft on the eyes."  Steve cursed himself over his lack of control over his capillaries and tried to cool himself down with a nearby water bottle.

There were no further questions asked during the duration of the meal.  Once Steve finished his food, a different maid came to take his dishes away.  Silently, Steve pushed his chair back and got up, only to be stopped suddenly by Stark.

"Who said we were done here?  Wait up, I need to open up the lab."

"What for?"  Steve asked suspiciously.  He didn't like where this conversation was going.

"I want to run some tests on you before you inevitably escape or some shit like that.  There were no files on you, even though your fellow assassins had plenty on theirs."  When he saw Steve was about to protest, he waved a small remote in front of Steve's face.  "Remember.  Microchip?"  Steve's right hand instinctively flew to the back of his neck.  Frowning slightly, the hitman followed the billionaire to a glass-enclosed workshop.

"Take off your clothes.  I mean, my clothes,"  Tony half-heartedly deadpanned, mentioning to a large, transparent column standing austerely in the middle of the room.

Complying, Steve took all but his breifs off and stepped inside the tube.  After a few moments, when Stark was situated behind an enormous control panel, blue-colored lasers ran over Steve's body.  Nothing hurt, although the small space was slightly suffocating. 

Some extremely long periods of time passed before Steve heard Tony's voice come over in the overhead speakers installed in the column.  "You can come out now.  Sorry about that.  Actually, I'm not really sorry.  You did try to kill me, after all," he trailed off, devoting his full attention back to the floating blue screens surrounding him.

Another half an hour or so passed until Tony read the results to Steve.  "Normal vital signs, normal constitution, although I would like to mention that you are _incredibly_ well endowed, normal neural and nervous functions, and... creepy mutated blood."  He shot a look at Steve, who was trying his best to look the other way.  "Care to explain?"

"Not particularily."

"Your loss.  I'll just go ahead and press this little button here..." Tony slowly produced the remote which controlled the microchip and menacingly, slowly, brought his thumb down.  Steve broke at the last second, pleading for Tony to stop.  "Fine, I'll tell you!  Just don't electrocute me!"  Smirking, Tony placed the remote back into his front pocket.

"I was... I was injected by something Fury called a 'super-soldier' serum...  It was supposed to make people strong.  Like, really strong.  Anyways, there had been a lot of failed tests in the past, but somehow I succeeded and was drafted into..."  Steve paused, unsure of just how much he should divulge to his captor. 

"Tell me.  I already read up all there is to know about the Avengers," Tony countered, goading Steve on.

"...The Avengers, yeah.  I have no idea why they thought I would be able to be stealthy or anything remotely of the sort.  I mean, look at me,"  He sighed, waving his hands at himself.  "Trust me, Cap, already was."  Steve sputtered indignantly for a bit before continuing.  "And for my first mission, I was assigned to the Stark charity gala, for whatever reason." 

They continued, volleying questions back and forth until night creeped up on them.  "It's gotten pretty late, hasn't it," Stark sighed, looking out the window.  He got up, pulling Steve up with him.  "Go back to sleep.  I'll ask you for more later.  If you need food, just ask Jarvis,"  he said, and with that, he disappeared out of the workshop and out of sight. 

Steve was confused, to say the least.  Why was he being kept here instead of being detained?  Why was he assigned to this mission anyways?  And most of all, how could he bring himself to talk to thin air?"

"Jarvis...?"  Steve wrung his hands, both with anticipation and embarrasment.

"Yes, Captain Rogers."

"Do you think I could get a...  sandwich?"

"Noted.  When you get back to your room, food will be waiting."

"Thanks, Jarvis."

"I am an AI.  There is no need to thank me."

Steve felt even more embarassed and decided to go back to his room before humiliating himself any further.  True to the machine's words, a simple sandwich was lying on a simple porcelain plate in front of his door.  He brought it into the room with him and wolfed it down without a second thought.  

If he was going to think a way out of this mess, at least he wouldn't have to do it on an empty stomach.  


	2. Silent Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury goes against his word and Tony creepily watches Steve sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who would read this fic, much less comment or bookmark it. I realize the last chapter was a bit too short, as is the case with most of the things I write. I guess I should change that, huh.
> 
> I went to Universal Studios Orlando and got a Captain America cap. I couldn't stop laughing, even when my parents started to walk slowly away from me. (Get it? I got a "Cap cap" HEUEHUEHUEHUHEUH)

Pepper, Tony's faithful and painfully understanding assistant, walked into Tony still working at the dead of night.  

"Jarvis?  Next time, can you force feed him?"  Pepper sighed, smacking Tony playfully.  "What am I going to do with you?  You can't even take care of yourself."  The billionaire simply growled lightly and stopped his work.  "What can I say?  No rest for the wicked."  Wiping his hands on a nearby towel, he showed the redhead to the foyer.  

"What's going on?  You never work like this unless you're stressed out."  Pepper strained, gesturing at the digital clock that read "4:38 AM".  Tony turned his head away, trying to avoid the subject.  

"C'mon, tell me,"

"I don't think I have to tell you anything,"

"I have to deal with all the shit you put off, Tony.  You at least owe me this."

After a long, drawn out pause, Tony gave in.  "Fine.  Fine, okay?  Just know that you were the one who asked."  He breathed in, hard, and spouted off in one whole breath.  "I'mkeepinganassassininmyguestroomanddon'tknowifhewantstokillmeornot,"

Silence from Pepper.  Tony bit his lower lip, waiting for the inevitable explosion.  Instead, Pepper just hufffed out a small laugh and scowled.  

"Stop shitting me, Tony."

"I'm not joking around!  Hey, Jarvis, get Steve down here!"  He called up to his AI, who promptly replied, "Of course, sir."

Another few moments of silence and exchanged glares passed before Steve came down from the stairs, hair wet and towel wrapped around his neck.

"Sorry for keeping you.  I was taking a shower, didn't want to be naked..."  Steve trailed off, gaze moving towards Pepper.  "Um, Stark?  Who's that?"

"Steve, meet Pepper.  Pepper, meet Steve, the assassin, who, by the way, is totally harmless and has been staying here for about a week."  Tony nervously waved his hand towards both of them.  The silence was deafening as the assassin and the assistant exchanged looks.  Tony felt like sinking into the cushions and actually considered hiding out in his workshop before Steve suddenly extended his hand. 

"Hi.  Pepper Potts?  I think Tony might have mentioned you before."  Tony didn't remember doing anything of the sort, but was glad that Steve wasn't throwing him under the bus.  "It's nice to meet you."

Pepper was simply shocked, disbelief showing on her face as she tentatively brought her hand to meet Steve's.  "I'm... It's... nice to meet you too.  Are you... really an assassin?"  She flinched when she said that, obviously not meaning to ask.  Steve laughed it off, though, and nodded sheepishly.  "Hard to believe, huh.  But yeah, I am."  Pepper looked like she was going to faint, either from shock or relief.  

Tony gestured to a lounge chair across from them and Steve immediately sat in it, smiling at Pepper.  She simply gave him a weak smile in return, still shocked. 

The early morning went on much like Steve and Tony's first meeting, with Pepper barraging Steve with a million questions and Steve, being an assassin, was unable to answer them.  Well, most of them.  

"How are your eyes so blue?"  Pepper threw a hand over her face, chagrined and turning crimson. 

"Hey, don't be embarrased.  I said the same thing, Pep,"  Tony said, chuckling.  Again, Steve's whole face turned red.  "Aw, look at that.  Even his ears blush!"  Tony smirked at Steve, only serving to fluster the assassin further.  

"I guess I was born this way,"  he mumbled, covering his face, abashed.

Once Pepper left, Tony leaned in close, invading Steve's personal space.  "Why were you taking a shower this early in the morning?"  

"It's what I usually do, Tony.  Don't read too much into it."

Tony had let him off the hook, watching the blond walk away, shouting, "Wouldn't have pegged you for such a boyscout, Steve!  Maybe I should take you to parties instead of Obi!"

Instead of laughing like Tony expected him to, Steve froze.  Before Tony could ask him about it, though, he shook himself off and hurried back to his room.

Strange, Tony had thought to himself.  Shrugging it off, he went back to his workshop, where he spent the rest of the morning (and afternoon.  And evening).

* * *

There was something going on with Steve.  Whenever he saw Tony, his heart would beat just a bit faster.  His face would feel just a bit hotter. 

And down there...  well, he didn't want to think about anything of the sort.  

He couldn't believe it.  He was a trained assassin, for god's sake, taught not to feel emotion or fear.  At this point, though, he definitely felt something akin to fear.  

And then he thought, maybe that was it!  Maybe he was just afraid of Tony.  He settled at that and flopped down on the bed, considering calling headquarters.  He thought about it, but promptly fell asleep. 

Back at HQ, though, Natasha Romanov (codename Black Widow) was extremely pissed off.  "Tell Coulson to shut the fuck up, Fury!  He's been bitching about how we haven't done anything to save Steve, this is a breach of contract, blah blah blah.  If he keeps talking I swear to god I will kill him in the most painful way I know," She griped, glaring daggers at her boss. 

Coulson scuttled in, sighing heavily.  Before he could say anything, though, Fury put up a hand to stop him.  "Before you say anything, Agent Coulson, I would advise you against instigating your own untimely death.  Widow here has volunteered to string your guts across the walls, so I think I'd want to keep quiet if I were you," Fury said, smiling tightly.  Although he wouldn't say it, he too was fed up with all of Coulson's constant complaining.  

Coulson shut his mouth and glared at Natasha, who was twirling a butter knife in her hand.  "Smart man,"  She scoffed, throwing the knife at the far wall.  He begrudgingly left the meeting room and retired to his quarters.  

Fury had better things to deal with than his petty coworkers, though.  Sure, he had said that he wouldn't save Steve, but promises were overrated.  He was young and inexperienced, although fiercely loyal.  Fury wasn't afraid of him divulging any of the corporation's secrets, but he wasn't so sure Steve could handle much torture.  Not that any of his captors would be able to contain him, the serum had made sure of that.  

He finally gave into his own worrying and called Natasha back to his office.  "Widow, I'm sending you after Steve."

"What?  I thought you said you wouldn't..."

"I know damn well what I said!  Just go," Fury yelled, slamming his hand on the desk.  "You can take Coulson with you, if you think you can put up with him without gagging or stabbing him."    Natasha gave him a strange look but didn't say anything else.  

Fury slumped back in his chair, exhausted.  Why was he even doing this?

Coulson popped his head in the doorway, eyes sparkling.  "Hey, Fury, did I hear something about Steve - "  

"GET OUT!"  Fury yelled, sending Coulson scrambling.  He definitely needed a vacation. 

* * *

It was early in the morning when Tony decided to finally stop working and check on his "prisoner".  

"Steve?"  He called out, knocking softly on the door.  When there was no response, Tony brought up Jarvis.  "Is he sleeping?"

"I believe so, sir.  Shall I allow access?"

For a split second, Tony thought that doing such a thing would make him a very creepy captor.  Unfortunately, his conscience had been eroded far too long ago and he gave Jarvis his consent, opening up the door with as much caution as he could.  

There, Steve was sleeping soundly, half-naked and clutching at his blankets.  Tony thought it was all really very adorable and sat down on the bed next to Steve.  "You know, you're pretty cute when you forget you're a trained killer,"  he whispered teasingly, shaking the assassin awake.  

Steve's eyes flew open.  "Tony...?  Why're you in my room?"

"I needed you to know I was leaving for a meeting, and as much I would love to leave you here unattended, I don't think that's such a good idea."  He laughed softly and got up.  Steve followed him, still not fully clothed, and grabbed him by the arm.  He immediately pulled it away like he had been burned, his whole face and torso turning red.  "Sorry, I don't know why - " Steve cut himself off and rubbed his arm insecurely.  Tony shrugged it off, running a hand through his hair.  "It's okay.  It's not unusual to be charmed by the amazing Tony Stark," he said, flourishing his arms playfully.  

Steve looked at him completely seriously, blue eyes peircing.  "Is that... what I've been feeling?"

Tony gave him a strange look.  "What?" 

All further conversation was cut short as they heard a feminine gasp at the window, followed by the sounds of something sliding on the glass. When they turned their heads to look at it, though, there was nothing.  

"Alright, then.  I'll be seeing you, Steve," Tony waved a perfunctory goodbye and slunk out of the room.  Steve was left standing in his room, suddenly feeling lonely.  

Unbeknownst to either of them, Natasha Romanov was clutching onto the ledge under Steve's bedroom window, still trying to process what she had just seen.  Steve was holding onto Tony's arm?  Half-naked?  Blushing all over?  There was no question about what she had to do next, though.  She took out her phone and tried her best to hang onto the ledge with one hand while holding the phone to her ear with the other.

"Fury?  I think we have a problem..."

* * *

Tony was greeted at the front of his building by a very expectant-looking Pepper.  "What, what's up, Pepper?"  He chuckled, opening the door to the limo for her and following her in.  "You expecting something?  I'm not sure when your paycheck comes in, but I'm sure you can live without it."  Pepper shook her head, blushing slightly.  Tony stiffened with laughter, realizing why she had been acting this way.

"You were waiting for Steve, weren't you?"  He asked with a smirk, enjoying watching Pepper scowl with embarrasment.  "What-no!  I mean, yes, but..."  She caught herself and groaned.  "Why can't I ever keep anything from you?"  Tony laughed.  "Maybe it's because I'm just too trustworthy, of course,"  At that, Pepper laughed harder than she should have, making Tony frown with mock disappointment.  

"Steve was such a gentleman last night, which was a nice change from your stupid antics," she laughed.  "Really, It's hard to believe he would want to kill you at all."

"Tell me about it.  Does he even want to kill me?"  Tony pouted, staring out the window.  

"Don't think about it too much, Tony.  Look, we're already here,"  Pepper soothingly said, gesturing at the large corporate building looming over the two of them.  They got out of the car and stepped through the automatic doors.

"Hey, Tony," Obadiah Stane greeted them at the door, holding a lukewarm cup of coffee.  He led them to the meeting room and sat Tony and Pepper down next to him.  The billionaire immediately felt drowsy, as was the case with most of the shareholder meetings he was forced to go to from time to time.  

"...think about that?"  A voice from his left woke Tony from his daydream.  "Whuh?"  He said, groggily, trying his best to act like he hadn't basically fallen asleep, although everyone there knew about his penchant for zoning out during meetings.  

"The Stark Expo is coming up, Tony.  Are you okay with the set date?"  Obi pointed to the front of the room where a large, stock calendar hung with a glaringly red mark stuck on one of the spaces.  

"Yeah, yeah, sure, that's great," he replied distractedly as he rubbed his hand on his face.  "Set the date, I'll try to crank out some more stuff for the Expo.  Pepper, make sure to send out the invites."  The man at the front of the room paused for a second before hesitantly continuing with his presentation.  That was Tony's cue to go back to sleep.  When the meeting was finally over, Pepper jabbed him a bit too hard in the side to wake him up.  "I really wish you would stop sleeping during these things, Tony.  They  _are_ important, not just a time for you to get some rest in."  Pepper sighed, leading him to the limo. 

"Whatever you say, Pep.  In my defense, the guy's voice was soothing, like a cup of chamomille tea.  Don't tell me you weren't just a little bit sleepy," Tony defended himself indignantly, getting in the limo. 

"So who's going to be your date to the Expo?  Before you ask, I'm way too busy to be carousing around with you drunk."

Tony grunted unhappily.  "Do I really need one?  I always wake up without knowing where I am."

"You know, with anyone else, that kind of behavior would be called lonely."  Suddenly, Pepper sat up in her seat, facing Tony with a mischievious glint in her eyes.  "I have an idea.  Why don't you take Steve?"

"What?!  Why would I - "

"Don't lie to me, Tony.  I know you always get pissy when the Expo comes around.  It's because you're lonely~"  Pepper gloated, reveling in the glare Tony shot her.  

"Oh, shut up.  Maybe I _WILL_ bring Steve!"  Tony became shocked at his own words and scowled when he saw Pepper's triumphant look.  "That's what I wanted to hear.  Now get out, I have an appointment,"  She said, promptly kicking Tony out of his own car.  He watched it drive away with a frown on his face.  But there were more pressing matters to attend to, like asking the assassin who possibly wanted him dead out on a date. 

* * *

"What the fuck do you mean, we have a problem?"

"Boss, I don't think you're going to like this..."

"Yeah?  Well, I'm going to start not liking this as soon as you tell me what the hell is going on.  Coulson, you can stay.  Just stop giving me that look, you make me feel like punching a cat,"  Fury sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Steve may... or may not... be with Tony Stark."

"What?  I knew that, Widow!  Don't waste my - "

"No."  It took a shitload of Natasha's careful training to keep her tone even.  "I mean, they might be sleeping together."

The reaction that the team gave was comical, to say the least.  Coulson looked like he was going to pass out on the floor, gasping for air and clutching at his tie with desperation.  Fury, on the other hand, looked like he was going to explode, but steamed silently where he was. 

"What... in the seven hells... would make you think that?"  Fury said, sounding calm but obviously straining to keep his cool.

"Well, they were in the same bedroom."

"So?"

"Steve was half naked.  And blushing."  Coulson gasped again, falling onto his knees like he had just been shot.  Natasha, as serious as the situation was, had to stifle a laugh.

"Aw, mother _fucker,_ I knew we shouldn't have sent him out..."  Fury mumbled, covering his face with one of his hands.  "We can't be sure if he's actually falling for the man or if he's trying to get out,"  Natasha pondered, cool and calculating.  "I had to leave him alone, I hope you can understand."  Fury shook his head.  "No.  Yeah, okay, you're right, but still.  That Stark is such a playboy, he probably wouldn't have a second thought of playing around with Steve."  He spat, bringing his hand down on the table.  "Fine, goddammit.  Leave him there.  Stark Expo is coming up, we'll see what's going on then.  You have any nice clothes?"  Fury asked, looking at Natasha, and then more hesitantly at the still-devastated Coulson. 

"Not unless you count the SHIELD issued jumpsuits as nice,"  She said, pointedly tugging at what she was wearing.  Sighing, Fury held out his credit card.  "I know I'm going to regret this, but...  You and Coulson can go shopping.  Go wild."  The redhead swiped it from her boss's hand and grabbed Coulson by the collar.  "See you, boss!  And if there's a few thousand missing from the account, blame Coulson,"  Widow waved on her way out. 

Fury slumped back into his chair, head limply falling over onto his shoulder.  "They don't pay me nearly enough to deal with these two,"  he grumbled, whipping out his phone. 

"Banner?  Yeah, I'm gonna need a suit in the next few days or so."


	3. Blood Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark had never been one to judge, but after what happened at the Expo, who could blame him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said 5 chapters up there, but I might end up making this work just 4. So, for any of you who actually knows how I'm naming my chapters, I'm skipping "contracts" and going onto "blood money". Wow, the plot fell on its face last chapter, but no worries! It'll (kind of) pick up now. Enjoy! 
> 
> Further note: I'M SO SORRY I was on a hiatus because of school. But no fear! I'll still be around for a couple of months.
> 
> Beta'd by the white wizard, Holly. Check out her tumblr at moriatyowesyouafall.tumblr.com.

The first thing Tony thought to himself as he paced outside of Steve bedroom was:  _What the hell am I doing?_ Hehad never been one to beat around the bush, and he sure as hell wasn't nervous or anything.  No, of course not...  Who was he kidding?  He couldn't even convince himself to muster up the courage and break down the door - okay, he needed to calm down.  There was no need to break anything.  

Sighing heavily, Tony knocked gently on the door, and harder when there was no response.  "Yeah?"  Came a faint response from the other side of the door, Slowly growing louder as Steve got closer.  The door opened slowly, with Steve's head sticking out cautiously.  

"Tony?  Do you need something?"  Tony never went to Steve's room in person, he always made JARVIS call him down to his workshop if he needed him.  

"Yeah, hey..."  Tony swallowed nervously, shifting his eyes to look everywhere but at Steve.

"Spit it out, Tony.  I know you wouldn't have come here unless it was important,"  Steve huffed, opening the door wide and stepping through the frame.  

"Okay, I know how ridiculous this might sound, but Pepper put me up to this, and I actually don't have anyone else to ask, but..."  Tony took in a large breath, realizing he was beginning to ramble.  "Do you think you could be my plus one for the Stark Expo?  I mean, I'm pretty sure you don't have any other plans, since I'm kind of holding you captive."

To Tony's surprise, Steve just smiled and said, "Sure.  I don't think I have any formal wear, though."  He was dressed in Tony's clothes again, still uncomfortable in them but was learning to deal.  Tony stood stock-still, staring at Steve's face while trying to look for any sign of insincerity.

"What, is there something on my face?"  Steve worriedly brought a hand up to his face, rubbing it against his cheek.  Tony shook his head slowly.  

"No, I was just -"  He coughed, embarrassed, and pinned his arms to his sides stiffly.  "Don't worry about that.  I'll have a suit ready for you.  Just be your gorgeous self,"  He joked, some of his good humor back.  

In all actuality, Steve had his own reasons for wanting to go to the Expo.  There, he could scope out any targets he had been assigned back before he was captured and maybe even spot some targets assigned to the others.  Nodding, Steve gave Tony one last smile before going back into his room and closing the door softly.  

"Well, that went better than expected.  Wouldn't you agree, JARVIS?"  Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and walking slowly back to his own room.  

"Of course, sir.  And would I be wrong in thinking you need a suit in Rogers' size?"  The AI replied, already going through its database for Tony's personal tailor.  

"Yeah, thanks, JARVIS.  One for me, too, the last good one got trashed at a party, remember?"  Tony chuckled, punching in the code to his workshop.  

"How could I forget, sir?"  The british accent deadpanned back, confirming the order.  At the hiss of the door, Tony's robot, Dummy wheeled up and turned its "head" inquisitively.  The brunette patted his invention and brushed past it, getting back to the work he had been doing before he had steeled himself to ask Steve to the Expo.  

At nearly 3 in the morning, Tony was holding a blowtorch and was painstakingly making final touches to one of his exhibits when a call came in, the ringing echoing in the large workshop.  The engineer almost dropped the torch and quickly turned it off while instructing JARVIS to take the call.  "Tony?  Are you still awake?"  Pepper's high pitched voice came in over the speakers, making Tony sigh with exhaustion.

"Of course, Pep.  Sleep is overrated,"  He yawned, stretching a bit before taking a sip of his coffee.  He smiled at the loud sigh Pepper gave him and reclined in his chair.  "You really need to start taking care of yourself, Tony.  By the way, have you figured out who you're taking to the Expo?"

Tony did a sort of spit-take at that, coughing with embarrassment.  "About that.  I, uh...  I kind of took your advice.  Steve's my date."  When he heard a feminine _gasp_ he covered his eyes with his hand, bracing himself for the barrage of questions and  _awwws_ he would get from his secretary.  

"Are you serious?  Tony, I didn't expect - I mean - Tony, what...  Why did he say yes?"

"I have no idea, actually.  He just did."

"Well, that's - that's great, Tony.  I'm happy for you."

"Hey, hey, hey, Pep, it's not like I'm going off to get married."

"Who knows?"  The redhead giggled.  "All I'm saying is that maybe this is a good change for you.  I don't want to see you dead on your feet from drinking, do you hear me?"

"Yes, mother," Tony rolled his eyes.  He was never drunk enough to deal with the assholes that heckled him at his own Expo.  Damn his father, starting the tradition of having the Stark Expo every year just to show off his stupid dysfunctional inventions.  "I'm hanging up.  I'm still not done with some exhibits."

"I'll leave you to it, then.  See you tomorrow, Tony." Pepper replied, pointedly not saying good night.  She knew the genius would be up all night, so what was the point?

"See you."

* * *

 Steve stared into the mirror that sat on the dresser in the room Tony gave him, messing with the collar of his suit and making sure his hair was neat.  He had no idea what the Stark Expo would be like, since before this he had only seen the event from the outside while focusing on a target.  When he heard a knock on the door, Steve almost tripped over himself trying to open it, his tie haphazardly slung over his neck.

"Steve?  Are you ready..."  Tony trailed off, unabashedly staringly at the blond with appreciation.  "Damn, you clean up well,"  he said, whistling.  "Did I get your sizes right?  It's not too tight, is it?"  He began to fuss over the outfit, brushing off invisible lint from the coat.  "Tony, its fine.  I just need to put on my tie..."  Steve blushed and looked away, hands clasped chastely in front of him.  "But I kind of forgot how to.  It's been a while,"  He admitted, blushing harder when Tony stepped forward and offered to help.

"No problem, sugar.  Here, let me just - "  Tony cut himself off in his focus, bringing his hands around the taller man's neck to grab the ends of the tie.  Steve was silent all the while, hands stuck to his sides and his head down.  " - All right.  There you go."  Tony stood back, admiring his work.  

"Th - thanks."  Steve nervously said, bringing his hand up to run it through his hair but stopping himself short so as not to mess it up.  "I'll...  I'll be just a second."  He quickly nodded and stole back into his room, slamming the door behind him.  

"What the hell?"  Tony thought aloud to himself, but was interrupted when Steve popped his head back out in the open.  "Sorry," he muttered, and promptly went back in.

"Why did he - Oh."  Tony chuckled to himself, realizing Steve had apologized for slamming the door.  Tony still couldn't believe the man was a trained killer, he was just way too... polite and clumsy.  

On the other side of the door, Steve had slid down into a curled-up sitting position, staring at his hands.  He scolded himself for being so transparent... although Tony hadn't noticed a thing.  Steve didn't know whether or not that was a good thing, but he still didn't feel right about the whole situation.  He wasn't supposed to have... feelings, especially not for someone so close to the target. 

He had realized what exactly he thought of Tony when the man had woken him up in the middle of the night.  He had gone through hours of denial before actually understanding that he...  well, that he loved Tony. 

Steve suddenly sprung up, breathing deeply.  Enough worrying.  He had a job to do, and thinking about love was not in his job description.  

He cautiously opened the door, making sure Tony wasn't outside of it, and padded down the stairs in his socks to find the brunette talking to Pepper in the living room.  Giving a quick salute to the redhead, Steve walked up to stand next to Tony.  Pepper smiled at them both.  "You know, you guys fit each other surprisingly well.  Oh, right, Steve, are you okay with all the cameras?"

"Cameras?"  Steve gave her a quizzical look.

"There are always paparazzi at the entrance of the Expo.  I thought you would have known, or at least I thought Tony would have told you,"

"No, Pep, I didn't.  It's not like he has a choice.  If it makes you feel any better, JARVIS has a whole album of candid Steve-photos in his database."

"What?  Tony, I never gave you permission - "

"Of course not, Cap.  Hence the 'candid'.  Don't worry, you look great in all... fifty-three of them."

"That's not what I was - Fifty-three?!  You took an actual count of the number of pictures you took of me?  Why did you take that many?"

"Let's just say it's spank bank material, Steve-o."  Tony gave the assassin a shit-eating grin, enjoying the red hue that crawled up his face.  

Pepper began to chuckle loudly, bringing the two out of their quarrel.  When they both turned on her with confusion, she outright laughed and said, "You two are already like a married couple."

"We are not!"  The two men said at the same time, pointing at the other.  

"Keep proving my point, boys."  Pepper said with a smile.  

When Steve calmed down, he held out his hands as he began to talk.  "In all seriousness, I don't want the press taking pictures of me so the feds can track me down."

"Well, blondie, I don't think you have much of a choice.  I'm in charge here, remember?"  Tony smirked, patting Steve on the back. 

They began to fight again, though without much heat.  "Like a married couple,"  Pepper muttered again to herself, shaking her head at them and watching the two go back and forth.

* * *

 When Natasha got back from her shopping, a significantly poorer and well-dressed Fury was waiting for her and Coulson, who was still sniveling over Steve's apparent infatuation with his captor.  "You look good, Fury," she nodded with approval, eyeing her boss up and down.  

"Thanks, Widow.  You don't look half bad yourself."  The female assassin was wearing a slinky red dress and what looked like deadly sharp heels - although she didn't need sharp objects to kill.  Coulson, on the other hand, was wearing exactly what he had worn when he'd left.  

"Coulson?  Did you not buy anything?"  Fury gave the man a look, eyeing both of them.  

"No.  He didn't need anything.  Besides, he was too busy crying to pick out something nice."  Natasha scoffed, dropping Coulson's arm with a dull  _thud._

"I was not," he got up and brushed himself off as if nothing had happened.  "I was just... preoccupied."  

"Alright, enough small talk.  Who's ready to crash Stark's Party?"  Fury shook his head, shooing the assassins out the door.  He could tell it was going to be a long night.  

* * *

Tony had finally relented, letting Steve go in through a back door of sorts into the Expo while the billionaire faced the blinding flashes and loud screams of the paparazzi.  "Yes, thanks for coming, you've heard me say the same thing thousands of times, blah blah blah,"  Tony shouted over the drone of the crowd.  He hurried up the steps, pausing occasionally for a photo op, and was ushered in through the door.

Once he was inside, he scanned the room for his "date" (he still refused to acknowledge the setup as such) and headed for the bar.  Halfway there, though, he remembered Pepper scolding him - and promptly continued on his way.  "Hit me up, barkeep," he called out to behind the tap, raising one of his hands lazily.  Once he was sure he had gotten the bartender's attention, he swiveled his stool to face the huge ballroom, one arm on the mahogany counter...

...and turned straight into Steve's chest.  

"Woah, Tony, I thought Pepper told you - "  Steve steadied the brunette, then brought his hands back to his sides.  "What?  Oh, right.  Uh... don't tell her.  I always do this, and she always gets disappointed, pouts are thrown around, it's the same at every single expo."  He shook his head, still getting the same uncertain look from the blonde.

"Don't you have to talk to CEOs or something?"

"Trust me, I'm never drunk enough to deal with those asswipes."

"...If you say so."  Steve shimmied his way onto the stool next to Tony's, not bothering to ask for a drink.  The serum had made sure that he couldn't get drunk, and the taste alone wasn't enough for Steve to start. 

Soon enough, businessmen and their wives began to approach the two of them.  The encounters usually resulted in dirty looks and sour faces directed mostly at Tony, but some made their way to Steve.  For some reason, they all thought he was the new PR director and either heckled or sucked up to him because of it.  

"I'm sorry, I don't think Tony can talk right now,"  Steve said apologetically to yet another businessman, stealing a glance at the dead-drunk billionaire.  While the blond was in the process of getting Tony to sit upright, someone came from behind Tony and shook him on the shoulder.

"Tony?  What are you doing?"  A man with grey hair urgently looked into Tony's eyes, realizing how drunk he was.  

"'m getting drunk, Obie.  What does it look like?"  He slurred, leaning into Steve's shoulder.  Steve froze at the mention of the newcomer's name.  Obie?  As in Obadiah?  Obadiah Stane?  

"Do you know Tony?"  He asked as if he didn't already know.  "I'm so sorry, but do you think you could take care of him?  I have... something I need to do."  The blonde forced Tony upright and left without any further explanation, running out the back. 

He took out his phone.  "Fury?  I found the target."  Unbeknownst to the assassin, Fury was only yards away from him in the ballroom, mingling with people he thought were insufferable but would serve the organization well.

Fury held out a hand to excuse himself from the conversation, leaving Natasha and Coulson to fend for themselves.  "What?  As in Stane?"

"Who else would it be?"  Steve impatiently retorted.

"Okay, fine.  Where is he?"

"I'm at the Expo right now.  He's at the bar with Tony."

"Oh, so you're on a first name basis, now?"

"Not now, Fury.  Just tell me what to do."

"Alright.  Knock out the bartender and assume his position - "

"That won't work.  I already talked to him."

Fury rubbed a hand over his eyes.  "Maybe next time you could be a little more inconspicuous, Captain?" 

"I get it, okay?  I'm not doing so hot.  Please, just tell me what to  _do._ "

"The only thing left to do is stab him.  Cleanly, of course."

"Really?  In front of To - Stark?"

"Yes, really.  Now shut up and go."  Steve heard the other end of the line  _click_ decisively and hung up.  He tried to look as normal as he could, sauntering confidently back to the bar.  "Thanks so much for looking after Tony, really,"  Steve smiled widely.  "No problem.  But do you think you could tell me who you are...  Captain?"  Out of nowhere, armed guards surrounded them, two of them holding Steve.  "You think I didn't know?  Tony tells me everything!  I know you and your little organization have wanted to kill me since the gala."  Obadiah laughed, walking up right in front of Steve.

"Please, not with Tony here."  Steve huffed through bared teeth.   

The old man laughed again.  "You think I care about that pushover?"  He motioned towards a disheveled Tony who was sinking against the counter, mumbling breathily to himself.  "So, what do you have to say for yourself, Cap?"

Steve Looked up from under his eyelashes.  

"The only one who calls me 'Cap' is Tony."  

Suddenly, Natasha jumped one of the guards holding Steve and kicked the other full force in the face with one of her razor-sharp heels.  Blood broke out, splattering the floor.  Steve hid his surprise, knowing Fury must have somehow gotten access to the event, and rolled away from the damage.  Coulson came running with a pistol in his hand, picking out the guards on the perimeter of the fight.  "Captain, he's getting away!"  Natasha shouted out in the process of dodging swipes from multiple enemies.  "On it,"  Steve called back, breaking into a sprint - when a guard tackled him, _hard,_ in the side.  

Steve brushed the guy off, kicking him in the torso for good measure.  He turned his head to see Obadiah running down the hall and tried his best to follow, moving against the frenzied crowd, which had broken into chaos at the sound of gunshots.  

"I didn't finish what I started, Obadiah!  Give me a chance to set things straight!"  Steve yelled over the commotion, finally pulling himself out of the crowd.  Once he was within arms reach of the man, Steve brought a shoulder into his back, making them both tumble to the ground.  It took a good amount of strength to hold down the struggling older man, and once Steve did, he brandished his knife.  

"It's over, Stane.  You can't hurt him anymore."  The two of them struggled again, but briefly.  

"You can kill me, but what would Tony think?"  The older man laughed maniacally, his breathing labored.  

"Tony didn't know what you were, what you are!  He thought you were his friend, but you're just a snake."  Steve raised his knife over his head.  "And now all you are is dead."  He brought the weapon down on Obadiah's jugular, not spilling as much blood as he would have liked.

Once he was sure the job was done, Steve slowly got up and turned, not taking his eyes off the limp figure slowly trickling blood down the carpet.  When he turned to face forward, he could see a very much sober Tony at the end of the hall, standing still.

"Steve?  Is that you...?"  Tony said in a small voice that barely carried over to Steve.  "What have you...  What did you do?"  Steve closed his eyes, wishing the moment away, but knew Tony was still there, staring at him with trembling hands.  The assassin walked past the billionaire, not sparing him even one glance.  

"Goodbye, Tony.  I don't think we'll have the chance to meet again."

It took everything Steve had to stop himself from running back to Tony.  He had looked so small, so... helpless.

He walked as fast as he could back to the main room, joining Natasha and Coulson in the empty space.  

"Welcome back, Captain,"  Coulson beamed at him, patting Steve on the back and walking him to the entrance.  All the paparazzi had fled in the frenzy, making the walkway feel empty and serene.  

"Yeah.  Yeah, I'm back."  Steve replied, still a bit dazed.  He followed Natasha into the car, staring at the Expo building and its bright lights as they drove off.   


	4. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one ever accused Tony of holding grudges. Except for that time in Malibu, and what happened at one of his parties, and...

"Stark, do you remember Obadiah's last words?"

It was too hot, too bright in that press room.  The journalists assaulted him with questions about what happened at the expo, holding out recorders and phones for tomorrow's scoop.

"No.  I was drunk.  Do you guys expect anything else from me?"

Tony was bitter, to say the least.  There were a thousand things running through his head and the press was not something he wanted to deal with at the moment.  He cursed himself inwardly at ever trusting Steve, at... at  _feeling_ something for the bastard. 

A buzzing went through the audience at Tony's reply, but the front row recovered quickly.

"Why do you think he was killed?"

Tony honestly had no idea.  Obie, the man who had gotten him through his parents' deaths, was dead.  Killed, actually, by someone he had taken care of for the past week. 

"Why do you think I would know?"  He snapped, ignoring Pepper's soothing hand on his arm.  

In some ways he felt responsible for the whole mess, even though he knew that was absurd.  But he was drunk, just like Pepper had told him not to be.  The night had gone by in a blur, filled with snippets of a sympathetic Steve apologizing for Tony's inebriated state and Obie coming to join them at the bar.  He had been sober enough to see a knife sticking up from Obie's throat, a minimal line of blood making its way down the carpet. 

In all actuality, Tony should have seen this coming.  Steve was an  _assassin,_ for God's sake.  Only, Tony thought the blonde was after him, not the man who was practically his father.  Honestly, he should have known.  Steve would have killed (or at least tried to kill) Tony much sooner if he had really intended to.

He was taken out of his thoughts by another question.  "Do you know who is responsible for his death?"

Tony took a sharp breath and hesitated a bit before saying, "No.  No, I don't."

* * *

"Steve."

The Captain sat in his chair on the perimeter of the round conference table, leaning absently onto one side and staring off into space.  

"Steve."

He tapped the table with a pen in his other hand, listening dazedly to the droning white noise going on in his ear.

" _Steve._ "

He rubbed his face, still dazed, and resumed his original position.  

" _CAPTAIN!_ "

Steve snapped to attention, almost slamming his hands down on the table.  Fury was looking down at him, somewhat shaken, leaning forward on his hands.  Steve flushed, looking down with embarrassment.  "Captain."  Fury sighed, slumping back into his chair as if he were giving up.  "He's been like this for days, sir,"  Coulson said worriedly.  "Are you sure it's alright to leave him as he is?"

"Shut up, Coulson.  What else can we do?  It's not like we can bring Stark here."  Fury glared at the man, ignoring Steve's flinch at Tony's name.  Although the blonde hadn't said anything about it, the assassins all knew why Steve was so distracted, so depressed all the time.  

"I think I'll retire to my room,"  Steve said, pushing his chair back and heading for the door.  It looked as if Fury was about to say something, but he simply put a hand to his mouth and nodded quickly, giving Steve permission to excuse himself. 

The captain walked as quickly as he could back to his quarters, trying to think of anything but Tony.  He had seen the feeds from the conference room, the newscast with Tony and his secretary in the press room talking about Obadiah's assassination.  Steve had almost pressed his face to the screen, wanting dearly to tell Tony everything, anything.  But he couldn't.  Not with Fury and the Avengers depending on him to keep quiet.  

So instead, when he thought no one else was listening, he whispered, "I'm sorry.  I'm so, so sorry..."

Steve gingerly opened the door to his room, taking in the somehow unfamiliar sight.  He tried not to think about how it compared with the room Tony gave him and went to a drawer, taking out a sketchpad and several pencils.  Leaning on the bed while sitting on the floor, Steve turned to a blank page and began to make a rough sketch.

20 minutes in, he realized he was drawing Tony.

Frustrated, he tore out the page, hesitantly crumpling it in his hands and tossing it in the general direction of the wastebasket.  He opened to the next page, biting the end of his pencil.  

Another 10 minutes had passed.  Again, he had been drawing Tony.

Steve almost screamed.  How did he even remember the man's face, let alone the soft lines of his goatee and the edges of his eyes?  This time, though, Steve continued with his drawing.  When he finished, he drew Tony again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  He drew until he was slumped forward over the drawing pad, pencil held loosely in his fingers and in danger of falling onto the page, where a half-finished sketch of Tony's face lay.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, Steve was painfully aware of the sheer amount of drawings that were strewn across the floor, all of Tony.  He trekked around the room as quickly as he could, even unfolding the first drawing he had done, and tucked them all safely away in the same drawer he kept his pad and stationary in. 

There was a knock at the door.  "Steve?"  A gentle voice called out from the hallway, accompanied by two short knocks.  "It's Coulson."  Steve sighed.  Of course it was Coulson.  "Wait a minute, I'll be out in just a second,"  Steve shouted, running a hand through his hair with exhaustion.  

He opened the door, where Coulson's expectant face was beaming up to him.  The man had a strange admiration for the blonde assassin since Steve had joined the Avengers, always doting on him or hovering around him one way or another.  "Did you need something?"

Coulson looked exhilerated, as if he was happy that Steve had even bothered to talk to him.  He very well might have been, actually.  "Not anything in particular.  Just checking in to see if you were okay."  He smiled again, hands clasped in front of him.  

Steve refused the urge to scowl at the man.  Even with all of his... _obsessive_ faults, Coulson was a good man.  Steve found it hard to remind himself every time he had felt uncomfortable around him.  "Thanks for worrying.  I'm fine, really, you should tell the others the same."  He made a kind of forced smile and stood there, awkwardly, for Coulson to say something more.

"Is there... anything else?"

Coulson snapped his head up, as if he had been spacing out or something of the same nature.  "No, no.  Sorry to bother you, Captain.  I'll be in the conference room with Tony, if you need me."  He waved excitedly, like a child, and even Steve couldn't hold back a chuckle.  He waved back, a small twitch of his hand.

Once Coulson was out of sight, Steve decided it had been a long time since he had last worked out.  He ducked back into his room, changing into some sweats, and headed for the gym.  There, Natasha was sparring with one of the poor agents who had been roped into being her training partner.  Steve watched as the agent helplessly tried to fight back, Natasha dodging every swipe and breaking every defense.  Finally, the agent dropped to the ground, not quite whimpering, but making a noise close to it. 

"Captain.  Haven't seen you down here in a while."

"I'd been... occupied."

"I know.  I was about to rescue you, you know."

Steve gawked.  She had?  "Really?  What happened?"

"A suave playboy happened, that's what."  The redhead turned primly, taking a small sip of water. 

"What... do you mean?"  Steve weakly replied.  Had she seen them that night, in the room together?

"I saw you and Stark together."  Damn it all.

"There was nothing between us,"  Steve said hastily, putting up his hands. 

"Of course, I knew that.  But was there something with... you?"  Her eyes bored into his, searching. 

Steve tried his best not to splutter.  "What... what are you talking about?  I don't know..."  he shook his head.  "I don't want to talk about this right now, Widow.  Will you spar with me?"

She smiled, only a small amount of hostility showing.  "Yes, but if I beat you, will you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Everything."  She grinned, then stuck her leg out to throw Steve off-balance.  

* * *

Of course, Steve had lost to Natasha.  It was hard to beat her even when he was in top form, so it didn't surprise him that the fight turned out the way it did, with him being out of practice.  

He'd been forced to divulge everything that had happened at his stay at Stark's place, from the capture to the Expo.  After he'd finished, she just chuckled knowingly and left the gym.  Steve stared after her, confused and embarrased, and looked away to wrap his hands in bandages.  He hadn't used the punching bag for a long time.  When he did, though, it usually came out of its hinges, so maybe it was for the best. 

An hour and seven punching bags later, Fury came into the gym with Steve still punishingly pounding the thing.  

"Captain, if you keep doing that, I'll have to make budget cuts," Fury half-joked, walking up with his hands behind his back.  Steve froze, stuck mid-punch in front of the bag which was dangerously teetering on its side.  "What brings you here, Fury?"  He asked, finally relaxing and reaching around his hands to unwrap his bandages.  

"Get showered and dressed, Captain.  There's someone I would like you to meet."  Fury nodded in that infuriatingly mysterious way of his and turned on his heel out of the gym.  Steve had no other choice but to hurriedly make his way to the showers.

Once he was clothed, he went to find Natasha, but to his luck found Coulson.   _Oh well,_ he thought.   _At least it's someone._ "Coulson.  Do you know why...?"

"Not at all, Captain."  He looked a bit worried, angry, even.  

"Is there something wrong?"

"There's...  there's nothing."  The agent looked as if he were touched that Steve cared for him, but put on a steely expression.  "You're wanted in the conference room.  Natasha is there, should I escort you?"  He asked, almost bashfully.  

"No, that won't be necessary."  Steve barely had time to feel bad about the pout that made its way onto Coulson's face, walking as fast as he could to where Fury was calling on him. 

When he opened the door, it was a sight he was not expecting, and certainly not one he was prepared for.

Fury grimaced as if he were expecting Steve to have to use the door as support and dent the doorknob as well.  Which he did.  

"Captain -  _Steve,_ I know this is a bit sudden, but I would like to introduce you to our two newest agents...  Clint Barton and Tony Stark."

Steve was about ready to keel over.

"You... you can't be serious..."

* * *

**Two weeks prior**

"Pepper, what would you do if someone you considered a friend killed someone close to you?"

"Okay, what the hell am I supposed to say to that, Tony?"

"What, I was just asking.  Now, tell me.  What would you do?"

The redhead put down her mug of coffee and rubbed a hand over tired eyes.  "We were in the middle of a budget meeting, Tony, I hardly think this is the time for - "

"No, Pep, this is exactly the right time for this.  What would you do?"  Tony interrupted, leaning forward with rapt attention.  

Pepper sighed.  "Tony, this had better be a hypothetical question, because I am not ready to handle you being carted off to prison for murdering... I don't know, Happy!"  She gave an apologetic nod to the chaffeur, who was standing in a corner of the room. 

It was Tony's turn to sound impatient.  "Pepper, I know who killed Obie."

Pepper froze.  "You do?  But I thought you told the press - "

"I know exactly what I told the press, Pep."

"Then why - "

"It was Steve, Pepper.   _Steve._ As in the assassin I took care of for upwards of a month!"  Tony threw up his hands, wide-eyed and panicked.  

The secretary just stared at Tony, not betraying any emotion in her expression, until she broke down and covered her mouth with a hand.  "You're kidding me.  Tony, you can't possibly think - "

"I don't  _think,_ Pepper, I  _KNOW_!!"  Tony shouted, standing up.  He began to pace.  "I saw him.  He was crouched over Obie, he had a knife in his hand - a _knife,_ for god's sake - and he straight up  _stabbed_ him!  Right in front of me!"  He was flinging his arms wildly, now, color beginning to rise in his cheeks along with his elevated frustration. 

"Oh my god, Tony.  I didn't think he would, I mean, he looked so docile, I didn't..."  Pepper trailed off, mind flickering through all existing memories of Steve and his blue, blue eyes.  

"Yeah, well, we thought he was going after me.  Turns out we were wrong, that  _I_ was wrong, and - "  He broke off, voice cracking.  "I think it's my fault.  I know you'll say I shouldn't think like that, but I do.  I gave him a place to live, I didn't kill him, or imprison him, or anything.  Why did I do that?"  His voice grew softer and softer, when finally, he dropped down next to Pepper.  She hugged him, tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

"I dont know, Tony, but those eyes were pretty compelling,"  she said, weakly, and squeezed tighter.  

"Don't I know,"  he murmured, slowly returning the embrace.  Happy looked a bit tearful, too, debating whether or not he should join the hug.  

They broke apart, with Pepper awkwardly reaching for her memo.  "I'll speak to you tomorrow, then, Mr. Stark."  She gave a curt nod and brushed invisible lint off her skirt.  "Good talk, Ms. Potts,"  Tony said, grateful for the lack of pity.  He didn't want to feel patronized, not right now. 

Long after Pepper had left, along with Happy, Tony sat, debating, in his chair.  "JARVIS?"  he said to the ceiling.  

"Yes, sir."

If he was going to lose someone who was as important to him as Obie is - was, he sure as hell wanted answers.

"Display the Avengers and call Nick Fury.  I have an appointment to make."

* * *

**Present time: 1400 hours**

"I am dead serious, Captain,"  Fury said, his wide smile plastered over his face.  It wasn't a good look on him.  He looked like he was about to strangle someone. 

Suddenly, Tony stepped forward, not quite in Steve's space, but on the edge of it.  "Captain."  He held out his hand as if they had never met before.  Steve balked, hands clenched tightly at his sides.  "I believe we have met before, Mr. Stark," he choked out, feeling like he was in danger of crying or doing something equally as humiliating. 

Tony withdrew his hand, eyebrows furrowed with concern.  Or was it anger?  Steve could never really read the billionaire's face.

Steve turned to Clint, who seemed a bit familiar.  He shook off the thought, though, because he couldn't have forgotten someone so distinctive.  Windswept hair that was a solid gold color in the lighting, broad shoulders and a somewhat stocky frame, Clint Barton wasn't one who Steve would have forgotten so easily.  Barton held out his hand, not quite smiling, but making an effort to.

Steve took it immediately, trying to ignore Tony's pointedly hurt expression, and gave Clint's hand a firm shake.  

"Nice to see knew faces around here."  Steve gave a curt nod, which Clint returned.  "If that's all, I'll be going to my room now."  He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, trying not to look like he was booking it out of there.  

"You know, you would think he'd be glad to see me, don't you, Barton?" Tony sighed, taking a seat.  Clint remained standing.  "Now I'm tempted to call him 'Capsicle'.  Bad puns aside, what do you think?" 

"Well, considering you held him captive against his will, no.  I don't think so."  

"I'll have you know he was very docile.  Pepper's words, not mine."

"Nice to know, Stark, but I doubt you got any brownie points for it."

"He was the one who killed Obie, not me."

"Yeah, Stark, I know.  I'm just saying, he probably had a good reason for it.  He seems to like you well enough, no matter how cold he acted.  Hell, when I first met you I wanted to kill you myself."

"You don't really mean that, do you, Barton?"

"You figure that out for yourself."

The two of them shook hands with Fury and let themselves be led to their respective rooms.  They weren't placed very far apart, but they weren't exactly next to each other, either.  When Tony was halfway in the door, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair in the corner of his eye to his left.  Once he closed the door and processed this, he flung the door open so wide it slammed on the wall with a large _thud._ It wasn't possible.  This had to be some sort of sick joke from Fury.

Yet there Steve was, frozen in stride, slowly turning his head to look at Tony.  "Stark...?  Was that you?"

Tony refused to be nervous.  He was _not_ a teenager anymore, he wouldn't stand for this, he - 

Steve ran up and hugged him.

What?

"What?"  Tony said, bewildered.  His arms were sort of flailing around with nothing to do, still confused at the situation.

"I'm so glad to see you, Tony.  I want you to know that I'm sorry, I can explain, as long as Fury lets me - " Steve hugged tighter, in danger of cutting off Tony's air supply.  Tony didn't care, though, but he was a bit embarrassed.  They were _hugging_ , in the middle of the hallway, where other people were walking, and...

Tony honestly didn't care anymore.  He cautiously, awkwardly returned the hug, with Steve holding him a good inch off the ground.

After a long while, Steve put Tony down and excused himself, blushing up to his ears.  Tony tried to ignore the adorableness of it all - Steve had killed Obie, damn it, he kind of forgot in the hug - and went into his own room.  Tony had to lean on the side of the wall to keep himself from following and stumbled into the room adjacent, all but body-slamming the bed.

He waited - no, he calculated - how long it would be before he would be able to talk to Steve without it being awkwardly coincidental - _hey, I know you kind of hauled ass and ran when you hugged me like, five minutes ago, but I wanted to talk -_ and waited for the right amount of time before pulling himself off the bed and lightheadedly reaching for the doorknob.  

When he opened the door, he ran straight into the very hard, muscular chest of one Steve Rogers.

(Not that he was complaining.)

They both started talking at the same time.  "I'm sorry, I should explain" - "Cap, I was just about to-"

And after a while of silence, Steve began to laugh.  Not the kind of "wow you're an idiot" laugh, but the laugh Tony usually heard when Steve was talking to Jarvis excitedly, or watching old movies.  It was the one he used when he was really, genuinely laughing, not that PR bullshit he pulled when he was around Tony. 

And hell if it didn't make Tony feel special.

After a while, they stopped laughing and just looked at each other, straight in the eyes, until Tony broke the gaze and invited Steve into his room.  "I know you're a gentleman and whatever, but I don't really feel like talking about murder in public,"  Tony flippantly said, shaking his head.  Steve's eyes widened, but if he was thinking about something, he had the good graces not to say anything about it.  

 They filed into Steve's bedroom sullenly, Steve not risking any looks at the shorter man.  When they were settled, Steve sitting on the bed and Tony in a swivel chair, Tony was the first to speak.  "Look, Steve, as much as I would like to forgive you, I can't."  It looked as if Steve was about to protest, but the billionaire held up a hand to continue. 

"Not until you tell me what you know."

"Tony, It doesn't work like that, you know.  I can't just - "

"Look, I don't really care, Steve!  All I want to know is why you killed someone you shouldn't have had to kill!"

"I didn't have to?  Tony, you don't know anything right now - "

"Yes, and that's precisely why I want you to  _tell me._ "

Steve sighed, a heavy, heavy sigh, and looked straight into Tony's eyes.  "He was planning to kill you, Tony."

Tony just... stared.  After enough time had passed that Steve was anxiously waving a hand in front of his face, he shook his head and tried to smile.  It was painful for Steve to watch, the broken expression barely hanging onto his face.  

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"  Tony dropped his head between his knees, hands hanging limp on his thighs.  "Is there more?"

"...He tried to take over your company even before he planned to kill you.  He didn't try to help you run it, he was trying to keep you from doing anything."

Tony lifted his head, hands shaking.  He stared down at them, laughing weakly and unconvincingly.  "Everyone who tried to raise me.  Disappointments, huh?"

"Tony, what?  What are you saying?"

He got up slowly, walking towards Steve with a newfound determination in his eyes.  "They never loved me.  They... left."

Steve's sympathy was obvious in his voice and eyes.  Tony hated it.  

"You know that's not true."

"And what would  _you_ know, Steve?  You left me, too!"

"But I'm here now!"

"It doesn't change the fact that you left!"

Steve grimaced, rose up like he was about to punch the brunette, and - 

Hugged him.  He hugged him.  Tony's eyes widened, taken by surprise a second time by the large man.  "Steve, what...  We already did this."

"This might be the wrong time to say it, but... I love you."

Tony's eyes got even wider.  "Excuse me, what?  I don't do love, soldier.  Hell, I barely do one night stands anymore."

"Shut up, Tony.  Enjoy the moment.  You can forget about it later, but right now I'm telling you I love you and it's the scariest damn thing I've ever done."  Tony realized the blonde was shaking slightly.  No doubt he was already becoming beet red.  

Tony decided to pat Steve awkwardly on the back, but was stopped when the captain pulled them apart and started to apologize furiously.  "I'm - I'm so sorry, Tony, that was out of line, I was rude.  Can we act like this never... happened?"

The shorter man stroked his goatee for a bit, feigning a contemplative took, before saying, "I'd rather not," and kissing Steve on a whim.  It was the assassin's turn to look surprised, but after a few seconds he realized what was happening and began to reciprocate the kiss.  If was a flurry of messy contact, and the obscene sounds they were making served to turn Steve an even darker shade of red.  

When they finally broke apart, chests heaving, Steve's pupils were blown and he looked positively debauched.  He was about to go in for another kiss, when several knocks sounded on the door.  

"Yeah, Stark?  As much as I approve of your bonding, I have to talk to Steve.  Alone."  Fury's voice, dripping with sarcasm, floated through the doorway, causing Steve to jump back like Tony would burn him.

 "Come in, Fury."  Steve tried desperately to look like he hadn't been making out with the other man in his room, but failed miserably.  His hair was sticking out at every angle and his lips were swollen and slick with saliva.  "Tony, we'll talk about this later."  Tony smirked at Steve's mussed-up state and left, patting Fury on the back on his way out.

"Smug son of a bitch.  I don't know why we even accepted him.  Do you, Rogers?"  Fury turned on the blonde, giving an inquisitive glare. 

Steve stifled a giggle and shook his head.  "I don't know for the life of me."

The one-eyed man sighed, but smiled at Steve.  "I'm glad you're happy.  I just wish it wasn't because of Stark."

Steve just smiled.  "I wouldn't want it any other way...  Sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH, LOOK, THE NOTES ARE AT THE END, NOW. FANCY. It's a terrible ending, I know, but I tried my best. Thanks to everyone who left kudos on this fic and to Holly for beta-ing it. Couldn't have gotten up off my lazy ass to finish it without you guys, thanks.
> 
> And for people interested in the series this work belongs to (hey, I see like, 2 people!) I'll be adding another work to the series... sometime. Sometime before I die, how about that?


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